A/N: hey all. This is my first try on a Fred/Angelina ship. Hope you like! Reviews are love as I have never sailed this ship before, and therefore constructive criticism is welcome. I tried to make it as in-cannon as possible. It's a semi-drabble, but it was late and I was tired while writing this so please spare me.
Would You Be My Syrup?
"You're an idiot."
"A huge idiot."
"Yes, so I heard."
"So monumentally stupid that—"
"Dammit, George, I know!" Fred looked at his twin brother with a partially confused, partially irritated expression. He was confused simply because he was wondering if George knew any other words than "idiot" to describe his current state.
Fred's current state includes trying to drown himself in the prefect's toilet.
"I mean honestly, Fred, if you're going to drown yourself you ought to do it in the bath or sink or lake or something. The toilet is so unsanitary. Someone took a dump down there and you're trying to drown yourself in it? You're such an idiot!" George looked incredulously at Fred, and Fred returned the look.
"Is that really why you're calling me an idiot?"
"Well, sure. I mean at the current moment that's the main reason. There are other moments, brother, but I don't feel like getting into it now." George waved a hand as if to send the other idiotic moments in Fred's past away. Fred stared blankly at George.
"You're not curious at all as to why I'm drowning myself in dooty parasites?" Fred stared at George, who had furrowed his brow in a calculating look.
"Hmm. Now I never thought of it from that angle," George admitted. "You see, because when I came in here and saw you trying to drown yourself in said dooty parasites, the first thing that came to my mind was 'He's an idiot for not using a cleaner source of water'. But now, my intuition tells me that there is a reason behind this unhygienic behavior that would make you even more idiotic than you already are considered to be. Pray tell, Freddy." George crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked mildly interested as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub.
Fred wiped his soaked hair out of his eyes (one of the many consequences of trying to drown yourself in a toilet, Fred noted, was that your hair smelled particularly bad afterwards), and turned solemnly to George. "My life is over."
George looked quite perplexed. "No, it's not, you haven't succeeded in your unconventional suicidal tactic."
"My reputation is ruined."
"Well, see that one doesn't work either. You have no reputation of your own. We're a pair. We're Fred and George. You don't have a your reputation. You have an our reputation. And our reputation isn't ruined unless the both of us screw up considerably."
"My teenage years are tarnished."
"You're now entering into what I like to call 'The Fred is Using Unique Poetry Terms in Regular People Talk' phase. Right there you just used a consonance. How unique of you. Normally you're one for personification or at the least, alliteration, but this one's new. I'm proud. Expand your horizons, my brother. Expand."
"I'm an idiot."
"You see, now you're just being annoyingly repetitive. We just went through this and I'm not in the mood to experience creepy déjà vu as it would allow Trelawney to drag me into her class and use me as a fine example of a Seer. So, please would you tell me why you are being so dramatic so we can get on with life and perhaps in your case take a shower?"
"On the contrary, I find it to be rather enjoyable."
"Do you want me to tell you what's going on or not?" Fred snapped at George, whipping his head around angrily so that the toilet water that was clinging to his hair flew off and landed on George's face. George wiped it off gingerly and rolled his eyes.
"I apologize, continue please. I'm simply requesting that you do it with less poetry terms and drama as the routine is quite boring and extraordinarily blown out of proportion."
"My life is over," Fred mumbled, looking back down at the toilet bowl that he was still kneeling on. He considered sticking his head back down and flushing again, but then took another whiff of his hair and decided against it.
"Holy hell, Fred, what is the matter with you? You're acting as traumatized as Ron does after he's seen a spider. You are acting like our little brother! You are becoming a right little girl! And frankly, I disapprove."
Fred tore his eyes away from the disgusting water to scowl at his brother. "You're quite the emotional support system, you know. Amazing how you turn people's lives around."
"It's a gift," George said, looking at his nails. "I have been here for at least ten minutes and still I find that we are making no progress. Circle dancing, one might say. Well—that's assuming that while trying to continue this little banter we dance around in circles. Then it can be taken in the physical sense as well. Ha! C'mon Fred," George yanked his brother from off his knees and proceeded to do some sort of demented circle dance. "Banter with me while we circle dance!"
"Banter's a large word for you."
"I, like you, am expanding my horizons. Quite a day for the Weasley twins, it is," George replied while still doing the Circle Dance. Fred joined in half-heartedly.
George stopped dead, seeing his brother's unenthusiastic dance. "Oh bugger." His expression grew uncharacteristically serious. "You're not doing the Circle Dance. You're not even trying to do the Circle Dance! This is big isn't it?"
Fred nodded mournfully.
"Oh God, Fred, what's wrong!? Are you dying? You can't die! I'd only be one half of a twin! NO FRED, DON'T GO NEAR THE LIGHT!" George clung to Fred desperately, but immediately regretted this decision as he became wet with toilet water.
"I might as well be dying," Fred replied miserably.
"What's wrong?" George asked, for what seemed like the billionth time that day.
There was a pause as George processed his miserable brother's reply. "Oh." George said, as he sat Fred down on the tile floor (a considerable distance away from the deadly toilet in case he got any ideas further into the conversation) "What happened?"
"She's going on a date," Fred mumbled to the floor.
"Since you're so cheerful about it, I'm assuming its not with you." George observed his toilet rat of a brother. Fred shook his head.
"Not with me."
"Who is it? We can kick the crap outta him."
George was stunned. "Roger Davies? That Ravenclaw poof?! HA! No, seriously, who is it?"
Now George looked highly disturbed. "You're joking, surely."
"I wish I was."
Fred looked like he was about to cry. George would not let his brother diminish whatever masculinity he had left by allowing him to cry. He awkwardly patted Fred's back in what he thought was a comforting way, but to Fred it was only a way to worsen his pain.
"It's right mean of you to hit someone whose life is on the near brink of destruction," Fred looked at George pointedly and George retracted his hand.
"Sorry," he apologized quickly. "But maybe if you had some physical pain, you'd forget all about your emotional pain!"
Fred groaned at this prospect and George grimaced. "Well, look at it this way," George turned to Fred. "It's only one date. She probably wont go out with him again."
Fred considered this. True, Roger Davies was known for his charm and silver tongue (in both ways), but Angelina—his Angelina—surely couldn't be fooled by some smartarse Ravenclaw, right? Right?
"You're right, George. No way could she be wooed by that slimy git."
George grinned as Fred began to convince himself. George was right, he said to himself. Davies was an idiot. Angelina was meant to be with him anyway. No point in fussing over what will not happen. Angelina would not be wooed by Roger Davies.
"Angelina was wooed by Roger Davies!" Fred cried out desperately, causing many students passing by to stare curiously at his outburst.
The twins sat down by the lake. Fred was soaking wet. Three guesses why.
"Well now at least you don't smell of toilet contents," George reasoned, thinking that this optimism would rub off on his brother. "I'm glad you took my advice."
"Why the hell won't the Giant Squid eat me?" Fred complained, shaking his fist at the Squid. George grabbed his wrist and forced Fred's wildly shaking hand down.
"Giant Squids don't eat people. They do get thoroughly pissed off by people, however, so I suggest you stop the hand gestures as the Squid had absolutely nothing to do with Angelina going out with Roger Davies for the second time," George explained. Fred came to terms with this and sat moodily on the shoreline.
"Why two dates, George? She was killing me with one but why two?!" Fred asked, more to himself than to George. George shrugged.
"I can't give you an answer, but I do believe that I have a solution to your dilemma." George tapped his nose and Fred looked at him curiously.
"Well, you might want to try, and this is some insane idea I came up with, you know, asking her out yourself," George suggested. Fred looked up at George with wide eyes.
"Are you serious? Merlin, no George!"
"Why the bloody hell not?" George replied, getting a bit annoyed with his brother's behavior. "I can't stand your moping. You've been doing it for about two weeks now and it's bringing down my troublemaking. It's not like Davies asked her to bloody marry him, it was just a couple of dates! As far as I'm concerned, the bird's still fair game. He wants to play a little Quidditch. She's the Quaffle. Knock him off his feet with a bludger and steal the Quaffle away from him for God's sake! It's that simple!"
Fred considered this. George huffed impatiently while Fred thought of his options.
"Fine," he said finally. "Fine. But how?"
"Simple! Just go up to them and say 'Oi, Angelina! Lemme talk to you for a second'. Then you sweep her off her feet with your good looks and charm and get married and have lots of little Frangelina babies together with wild red hair. You'll name them George, Georgina, Georgette, Georgia, and Geoff." George looked satisfied with that plan, knowing that the only flaw in it was that there were no more forms of the name 'George' to name Fred's last kid. Fred looked thoughtful for a moment, but decided to trust his brother. After all, what's the worst he could do?
"Yeah, maybe I will. Thanks George."
"Don't mention it. Oh and by the way, if you try to drown yourself while taking a bath next time, just know that I will not save you." George looked thoughtful for a moment. "Although I might have Colin Creevey do it. I hear that kid's moved on from Harry and I believe that he has a slight gay tendency. He'll probably bring in his camera and take many pictures of you drowning in all of your naked glory and then post them all over the school."
"So, I hear we have another hot date tonight with the notorious Quidditch Captain Mr. Roger Davies." Alicia Spinnet teased Angelina. Angelina grinned and threw a pillow at Alicia. They were in their dorm and Angelina threw a skirt and shirt on her bed, trying to decide what to wear. Katie Bell perked up from her Astronomy homework.
"Another one? God, do I hear wedding bells?" She cupped a hand around her ear as Alicia began humming the Wedding March. Angelina rolled her eyes at her two friends.
"You two are idiots. It's two dates. I'm not even sure I like him all that much." She finished the sentence wistfully while looking out the window at the grounds and aimed her brown eyes at the lake's shore.
"I don't know, Angie," Alicia objected thoughtfully. "You could definitely do worse than Roger Davies."
"Yeah," Katie agreed. "I definitely wouldn't mind if Roger had an eye for me."
Angelina thought this over. They were right, she decided, she shouldn't be complaining. But still…
"So, how good a kisser is he?" Alicia asked curiously.
"I don't kiss on the first date," Angelina said. Katie made a noise that sounded a lot like 'psh' and Alicia rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, alright you might be able to get away with crap like that around Roger, but I definitely don't buy it. Especially because of that time back in fourth year when Diggory asked you out and you were snogging each other's faces off in the corridor." Katie recapped the events from fourth year. Angelina blushed.
"You don't kiss on the first date with Roger is what you really mean," Alicia voiced Angelina's exact thoughts.
"Well, for whatever reason you have for not snogging his face off in the corridor on Friday, you can't use that excuse now. It's the second date rule—Second date is the Snogging Date," Alicia continued pointedly.
"Whatever," Angelina mumbled. She realized that she had forgotten the rule. She didn't understand why she dint want to snog him in the corridor, either. But maybe, she reasoned, that she was just nervous yesterday with him. He was intensely good looking, there was no denying it. Maybe he just made her nervous.
Yeah. That was it. He did make her nervous.
It just wasn't the type of nervous that she wanted.
"That sucks, man!" Lee Jordan frowned for Fred. He felt sorry for him.
"I know," Fred continued, still feeling self-sympathy.
"Oh for the love of Merlin, Fred, this is getting ridiculous!" George threw himself down on his bed and buried his face in the pillow.
"You know, you could suffocate that way," Lee pointed out, watching George press the pillow to his face.
"Must be a trait of the Weasley twins, attempting to commit suicide," George's muffled reply came from beyond the pillow prison. Fred looked thoughtfully at his bed pillows, but Lee, catching his glance, quckly took them off the bad and sat on them. He knew that Fred, no matter how desperate he was, would not kill himself by using anything hat Lee's butt had touched last.
George removed the pillow from his face and stared at the ceiling. "Fred. Fred. Fred. GO AND GET THE GIRL INSTEAD OF SITTING HERE AND COMPLAINING ABOUT HER! I mean, God, if you don't, you should at least start seeing other people."
"Yeah, seriously, if you don't want to go and get her then just move on," Lee agreed.
"No! We never agreed to see other people. I won't cheat on my Angelina!"
"YOU WERE NEVER SEEING EACH OTHER!" George exclaimed. Fred shrugged.
"Minor detail. The point is, even if we do decide to see other people, I'm the one who should be doing the seeing. If we decide that, I'm supposed to see other people. She's supposed to wait until I die!"
"Do you hear yourself when you speak?" Lee asked curiously. Fred casually kicked him off of his bed. "Ow! Ugh, you're a wanker."
"Thanks. This is great. Way to go, guys, this is the best way to make me feel better," Fred mumbled moodily.
"ARGH! Do you know what Angelina's doing right now?" George asked his brother, in an irritated fashion.
"She's snogging Davies."
"Probably! Want to know what?"
"THAT COULD HAVE BEEN YOU! I'll bet you anything if you just do as I told you and stop being such a friggen five year old that it could be you and her snogging right now! And then Lee and I will plan the wedding and I'll be your best man because well, that's the way it'll work out, and she'll become my sister-in-law and I'll be like 'oi, Angelina!' and she'll be like 'nope, only Fred can say oi, Angelina because that was what he said the first time he asked me out'. That is all you have to say. 'Oi, Ange-bloody-lina, go out with me!' and then she'll swoon and you'll catch her and all the aforementioned will occur. GO AND SWEEP HER OFF HER BLOODY FEET, WANKER!"
"Alright I will tomorrow."
"Why not tonight?" Lee asked.
"Because right now she's currently snogging Davies."
Angelina entered the girls dorm to see two pairs of very prying eyes boring into her.
"Hello, children." Angelina rolled her own eyes at the anticipation that was palapable in the room.
"How good of a kisser is he?" Alicia asked immediately after studying her for a moment. Angelina sighed and thought.
"I don't know."
"Do not give me any crap about you not kissing him again because that is a LIE, Missy!" Katie said accusingly.
"No, its not that."
"So you snogged him, then?" Alicia asked.
"Did you do us proud?" Katie inquired.
"What did you wear?" Alicia asked stupidly.
"What the hell do you think I wore, a chicken suit? I wore what I'm wearing now, dungbrain."
"Oh. Right. Well, it's a question that I normally ask." Alicia grinned sheepishly.
"Yes, and it always earns the same response," Katie pointed out. Alicia stuck her tongue out at Katie in an extremely mature fashion.
Angelina flopped down on her fourposter bed. Katie narrowed her eyes. "You didn't have a good time?"
"No, it's not that…I just…do you know what I felt when I kissed him?"
"Yeah, I probably do," Katie answered with a slight grin.
"What?" Alicia asked incredulously as Katie's face quickly dropped all traces of the grin.
"Nothing! I told him after he let me up for air that I didn't think it would work out. That I couldn't see him again."
"Why would you do that?!" Katie sputtered.
"I don't know, it just didn't feel right."
"Go get her, Freddy!" Lee Jordan gave Fred an encouraging smile and a slightly-too-forced pat on the back the next day at breakfast before moving a considerable distance away with George. They had insisted that they wanted to watch the action unfold from the sidelines. Fred rubbed his back, where he was sure Lee had left his handprint from the force of his "pat". Why the hell did everyone keep hitting him?
"Yeah," Fred responded half-heartedly. This was stupid. Maybe he should just drown himself in the bathtub. Creevey wasn't such a bad bloke…perhaps he could even capture Fred's good side…
And then, she came into the Great Hall. He was pulled violently from his thoughts and entranced. He watched her, his breath caught in his throat. There she was. And without permission from his brain, his mouth formed words.
She looked startled for a second and searched for the source of the call. Fred waved his arms around wildly and caught her attention. She smiled a perfectly even smile. "OI ANGELINA!" he called again, in the same loud tone.
Angelina came over to his end of the table and sat down opposite him. "You know, you're not calling a dog."
Fred felt himself blush and mumbled an apology. "It's fine," she said. "What's up?"
"Um, I uh…well um…the ceiling!"
She looked confused for a moment. "Yes, but besides that?"
"The rest of the sky!" Fred responded so enthusiastically that he jammed his fork too hard into his pancakes, causing it to hit the end of the plate and make that horrible squeaking noise. Angelina winced.
"Yes, the sky! And then the moon and then the sun and then the stars!" Fred kept going. Why did he keep going? It seemed that he had lost complete control of his mouth.
"I see you and Katie were doing the same Astronomy homework," Angelina observed with a laugh.
"Nah, not me! Homework is bad. I am above homework. Much like the sky and the ceiling is above us!" He was rambling now, and making crappy analogies all with the enthusiasm of a two year old on a sugar high. What the hell was the matter with him?
He had Angelina Syndrome.
"So, um, how's Roger?" His grip around his fork tightened at the mention of Roger's name. Angelina shrugged.
"He's alright I suppose," she replied nonchalantly. I really don't care how he is was what she meant.
"Yeah? Two dates. That's a large number of dates. Two. That's more than one, did you know that?"
"No, Fred, you enlighten my world."
"Well…it's two ones. That's why it's called two. That's two first dates." He was making no sense.
"You're making no sense." She liked pointing things out.
"Yes, I know," he mumbled, looking down at his pancakes. He decided they needed something. Syrup. Otherwise, he thought, the pancakes were just lonely. No one liked to eat lonely pancakes. "Could you pass me the syrup?"
Angelina looked to her right and grabbed the syrup and passed it to him.
"Funny thing, syrup is," he mused as he looked at the container thoughtfully. Angelina looked at him curiously.
"Why's that?" She humored him. Fred was clearly off, even a blind man could see that, but she decided that it was…fun to see him off. He's a fun person when he's off. Or utterly insane. Either way, she'd gotten use to him over their years at Hogwarts.
"Well, besides the fact that its all brown and sticky but deliciously sweet, it's just…it compliments pancakes. The pancakes are lonely without the syrup. The syrup makes the pancakes even better than they are. You can't really have one without the other because then they wont be…you know, whole." He looked up into her eyes. Her syrup-colored eyes. "Oi, Angelina," He began with a grin. "Would you be my syrup?"
"What?" she looked taken aback.
"Would you be my syrup?" Fred asked again. Angelina furrowed her brow, trying to work out just what he was asking. She smiled.
"Are you asking me on a date, Fred?"
"Something like that…" Fred was still trying to process exactly what he said, himself. He shook his head and grinned in a manner that he thought was appealing. "Would you be my syrup?"
She smiled even wider. "Yeah. Actually around seven tomorrow night I believe I could be your syrup if that's a good time."
"It's always a good time for syrup!"
"Great. I've gotta go, Fred, I'll see you later." With one last smile, she got up and left.
"Bye," he said breathlessly, watching her leave.
George and Lee approached Fred cautiously from their little corner of the breakfast table and sat down on either side of him.
"How'd it go?" Lee asked.
"I asked her to be my syrup."
"Alright, that's not quite what I had in mind…whatever, what'd she say?" George asked.
"She said that she'd be my syrup tomorrow at seven."
"Haha! Way to go, Fred! You did it!" Lee and George commenced patting Fred on the back with more force than was necessary (as usual). And this time, Fred didn't mind or care.
"So how'd it go?" Katie asked, looking at the clock on the wall, which read eleven thirty. Angelina flopped down on her fourposter.
"Did you kiss on the first date or were you a boring old prude?" Alicia inquired, while inspecting her nails. Angelina sighed.
"I was definitely not a prude."
Alicia looked up, interested. "How good a kisser was he?"
"He's amazing. Do you know what I felt when I kissed him?"
"I bet I do," Katie said, smiling over at Angelina.
Fred stared at the ceiling. He had been staring at the ceiling and reliving every single moment of his date with Angelina since eleven thirty.
"Hey George?" Fred called to his dorm room, still looking at the ceiling.
"The ceiling. And the clouds. And the sky. And the moon. And the sun. And the stars."
"Hmm. I can see that. Hey I'm hungry, you wanna go down to the kitchens to get something to eat?"
"Nah," Fred smiled to himself. "I just had pancakes with syrup. I'm full."